Graceful Duplicity
by Sakura Sephiroth
Summary: Vengeance & mourning lead to a decision that starts a war no one was prepared for. In the midst of the chaos, three individuals' lives will be affected in ways they never imagined: the world's #1 assassin, the maiden, the crime lord's heir. This all leads to the biggest deception imaginable. A story of love, loss, & loyalty. M: Violence, language, citruses, adult themes. OOC.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Chapter 01: Prologue**

Pinching the shrinking white bud in between his icy fingertips, he pulled it from his lips and exhaled a slithering sheet of smoke. Eyes utterly devoid of the kindness of humanity stared out at the darkened, bleak city before him. Needles of heavy raindrops showered the thick walled windows, filling the bedroom with a cacophony of winter's misery and his barely beating heart. He continued to gaze out at this once homely city with the bittersweet taste of memories. The ocean danced to the liquid drops that assaulted her. The cars all packed the streets and the tall buildings, speckled with golden lights, stood like protective spires all throughout, creating a skyline of success. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes and forced the onslaught of his past aside.

"Now is not the time," he whispered, smooshing the cigarette bud into the crystal ashtray upon the carpeted floor beside him.

Placing his palms on the ground to either side, he pushed up into a stance. Turning away from the window, his entire naked back glowed like porcelain from the city lights. Long strides brought him to a wooden, circular table. The Stranger pulled a set of matches from his dark denim pockets and lit a stick. Bringing the flame to the black candles in the center of the table, he lit the thin torches and waved the match out. Tossing it aside onto the barren side of the table, he narrowed his strong, empty eyes upon the tools of his trade. There were many custom made pieces laying there, each in its own specially designed pocket. Reaching out to his precious little friends, he fingered the longest, sharpest one. His soft lips molded into the tiniest of smirks.

He deftly slid the instrument from its leather sheath. Flipping it around, his strong grip wrapped tightly around the metal hilt. Examining it to ensure its pristine condition, the Stranger allowed himself a full smile of pleasure. The smell of it overwhelmed his senses giving him an adrenaline rush and an excitement that he had not felt in many moons. Contemplating the task at hand, he slid the shimmering beauty back into her confines and quickly rolled up the kit, tying it securely.

"Time to put on my face," he muttered with a long, calming breath. Walking away from the table, he strolled into the small bathroom in the left corner of the bedroom. Closing the door behind him, the Stranger looked into the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. Grabbing the small black bag off the closed lid of the toilet seat, he unzipped it and flipped through the different identities he had accumulated over the years. Fetching one of his lesser known ones, he nodded with satisfaction. Zipping that compartment back up, he then unzipped the lower section and pulled out an array of items for his preparation.

As the seconds and minutes continued to tick on by, the rain became harsher, falling without mercy upon the streets of the city. The clouds grew grimmer and the wind eerily more restless. The amount of vehicles on the roads began to decrease until there were only just the random nocturnal stragglers. When the skies roared with angry thunder is when the Stranger finally opened the bathroom door, a flood of hot steam wafting around him. After carelessly drying himself, he toweled down the mirror and carefully observed his new face. He raked back the gingery, copper locks. They were slightly dark, almost brown. But once they dried, it would be a shimmering, golden hazel. Glancing to the scruff across his cheeks and chin, he realized the new dye had also brought out a bit of color on those week-old whiskers.

"Very nice," he mumbled, dimples piercing his flawless cheeks as large green eyes became hooded with ill intention.

* * *

Keeping her back perfectly straight, and her hands elegantly clasped together, she bowed her head and pushed fluidly into a stance. Keeping her eyes close to the ground, the young woman held her breath, afraid that it would give away how frightened she was.

" _Such beauty is so rare these days_ ," the older gentlemen said, unable to take his grey lascivious gaze off of her. His English was accented heavily with Chinese undertones. A head full of long salt and pepper hair was tied neatly back in a simple ponytail, while a pointed goatee gave his expression a dark and malicious sophistication. " _Tell me, when will the bidding begin for this one,_ " he growled, stroking his smidge of a beard.

The man sitting down across from him on the clean tatami mat, legs folded formally underneath, glance briefly to the young woman and smiled proudly. " _Unfortunately, the bidding for her virtue will not begin for some time yet. There is still much she must learn._ " Turning to his most valued client, the man bowed deeply to him. " _I promise, Tsu-sama, that you shall be the first one when the time arrives._ "

Pleased with such hospitality and respect, Tsu nodded with satisfaction. " _I shall eagerly await your offer, Sawara-san._ " Grunting as he struggled to his feet, he stepped closer to the young woman, his yukata falling apart to reveal his thin and unappealing chest. Bringing his nose to her neck, he inhaled deeply and licked his lips. " _Mm, I cannot wait._ " With those final words, he took his leave.

Sawara stood up after Tsu's departure and walked up to lady. Tenderly, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Fuwa-sama will be proud to learn that you are being sought after so soon already."

Focusing on a single spot upon the tatami, she nodded once to indicate she understood. Outside she was the perfection of elegance that had been ingrained into her since childhood. But inside… Inside she was standing in the middle of a packed room, screaming at the tops of her lungs. But it was nothing more than muted white noise. No one heard, nor cared for her pain.

Sawara glanced to the clock on the wall behind her and dropped his hand. "Go now, Kyoko. It is time for you to serve tea to the young master."

Bowing humbly to her sensei, she hastily retracted her steps and exited the guest room. Her tabi-socked feet padded lightly on the polished bamboo floors as Kyoko trekked to the kitchen. The tea was already awaiting her on a golden lacquered tray. The steam billowed from the spout of the green cast-iron pot. Two small matching cups were also placed on the tray with a small porcelain container.

Picking up the tray, Kyoko exited the kitchen and walked around to the left, up the stairs to the very top floor of the manor. Upon reaching his room, she knelt and lightly knocked on the bamboo frame.

"Yeah, whatever," a man's voice yelled with irritation.

Kyoko stood with the tray after sliding the doors open and walked over to the large bed on the other side of the room. She then walked back to close the doors.

This was the only room in the entire manor that parted ways with the traditional atmosphere of the business. Instead of a futon, there was a large bed resting on a frame low to the ground. The tatami mats had been removed, leaving the wooden floor bare. Each side of the bed had an accompanying small nightstand with large lamps.

After pouring the tea, she grasped it with her palms and offered it to the young man, careful not to meet his eyes and illustrate any sense of disrespect. Gripping the cup with his fingertips, he brought the piping hot liquid to his lips and sipped it, not bothering to remove his gaze from her smooth face.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked with utmost politeness.

Putting the cup down on the tray beside the bed, he stood up straighter. The black sheets that covered his body, fell down partway revealing his strong muscular chest. Her heart tightened at the sight, but her expression gave nothing away. Stretching his hand out towards her, he gently stroked the curve of her chin along her jaw. "The same thing I ask for every night, Kyoko."

Shutting her lids tight, she looked away and crawled back. "Please, Fuwa-san I cannot—"

"Sho," he interrupted her vehemently. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sho?"

"I cannot!" she argued, standing up and giving her back to him. "It's not right. Why can you not see that what you are asking of me is just not possible! I am nothing more than… than a serving girl in your father's household. I cannot be what you want me to be."

Flinging the sheet off himself, he dragged himself from the warmth of his bed and approached her slowly. "I don't give a damn what my father thinks. You should know that." Her silence was filled with the pattering sounds of the rain upon their shingled rooftops. Sighing sadly, he placed his palms upon her shoulder and squeezed affectionately. "Please, Kyoko. Do you honestly not see my feelings for you?" Sho forced her about and moved his palms to her chilled cheeks. "You are the only reason I stay here."

Exhaling, she lifted her eyes to his. "I cannot return your feelings. This is the only home I have ever had and I have nothing left in this world except for it. I cannot risk losing everything I have worked so hard for."

"You will never lose anything!" Sho shouted, pulling her closer to him. "I will take care of you. I will take care of everything for you."

Covering his hands with her trembling ones, she forced a smile. "You may not see it right now, but you will do what your father asks of you… Sho."

Touching his forehead to hers, he gritted his teeth at her words, wanting so desperately to defy her. Deep down, the adolescent knew that whatever he said would be meaningless without action. Words were useless before the eyes of this angel. Yet, the simple sound of his name upon her tongue made all of his worries melt away. "Say it again…" he whispered.

"Sho…"

"Let me love you, my dearest Kyoko." He whispered, his resolve diminishing before her presence.

Breaking him free of her, Kyoko stepped back and continued to do so until the distance would refute any chance of intimacy. "I am sorry, but I have my duties to the Fuwa house, and… being yours is not an honor I am allowed privilege of." Kyoko bowed deeply. "Forgive me… Fuwa-san."

He watched her retreating back and curled his fingers into fists of despair.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The older man asked with slightly accented English. He grabbed the decanter and poured the amber liquid into two crystal glasses. Setting aside the bottle, he snagged the drinks and walked over to sitting area before the expansive European style fireplace, the only source of illumination in one of the mansion's many living rooms. Handing one to his comrade, he then sat down on the opposite seat, regarding him curiously. "You will be starting a war for the ages."

A gaze heavy with the burden of mourning and vengeance, he eyed the translucent honey liquid, pondering his best friend's words. After taking a deep breath, he sipped the beverage, relishing the burn that filled his throat and chest as it went down, smooth and exquisite. "You have splendid taste," he said with a soft chuckle.

"Don't deflect with me," the foreigner responded curtly. "You really must contemplate the decision that you are making. This war could be catastrophic, on a scale you may not be prepared for-"

"If they didn't want war, then maybe they shouldn't have killed her!" He interrupted, raising his deep, rough voice with mounting impatience. Pushing to his feet, he began to pace the space before the dancing flames. "I know damn well what the bloody consequences of this decision entail. I am not a fucking fool. But they... _He_ shall not be free of this sin. I _will_ _not_ allow it!"

Sighing, Lory simply nodded. He took a couple of long swigs of his own drink as defeat to his companion's plight began to pull him beneath the blankets of irrational brashness. "Fine, Kuu. If this is what you truly want."

Looking over his shoulder at the man who had been his closest confidante for the vast majority of his life, Hizuri Kuu made an attempt to gauge his true thoughts. Takarada Lory was a handsome man in his mid-forties, with long wavy brown hair that was tied back into a small bun. His mouth and chin were embraced with a neat bush of a goatee to match. He sat in his oversized Victorian chair, wrapped up comfortably in a silken black robe, looking devilish and paternal. Licking his lips, Kuu dropped his tone. "Are you certain, can I count on your support?"

He simply nodded once. "Always. You have my support always."

Smiling handsomely, Kuu walked over to Lory. They clanked their glasses in a salute to the chaos that was to arise. "To Juliena."

"To Juliena."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading this story. I will update soon. Take care.**


	2. Chapter 2: Insolent

As his feet stepped one after another in a determined stride towards his destination, the Stranger couldn't help but notice the cold harshness of the weather of this country, this foul city. Scoffing to himself, he realized that no matter how much he tried to run from his despair, it chased him just like this dreary season, from one location to the next. There was no country, no town, no alternate place in human civilization that would ever provide him reprieve from the grief and hatred that stewed within his heart. The water like needles with the burden of a thousand corpses, plastered his body from head to toe, drenching him with its arctic judgment. The skies as dark as the clouds that flowed through his veins, roared with disappointment at what was to come.

Lowering his gaze from the putrid skies, the Stranger looked onward. His eye became steady, focused. Thick brows remained neutral as the transformation from his true identity into the character that was chosen for the task at hand began to awake. The calm that surrounded him began to swirl like smoke from the earth that burned. He straightened his shoulders automatically as his eyes became lidded with malevolence. Soft lips turned up in a smirk laced with deadly sin. Within the damp pockets of his wool coat, his hands tightened into fists before unraveling momentary. This routine continued until his booted feet came to a staggering halt at the very end of a lengthy, narrowed street. The buildings became fewer along the trek until an expanse of barren loneliness led to an extraordinarily large and old manor.

Allowing the façade of emerald eyes to take in the sight, inwardly the Stranger was impressed. The building was large enough to rival Himeji. Yet the design was far less inviting than the ancient royal estate. The walls were painted a dark brown, mahogany, with black trim. The roofs were tiled in classical Japanese architectural style exhuming elegance and sophistication of the highest order.

Gritting his teeth, the Stranger felt his blood beginning to boil with hatred so profound, it threatened to expose him. But her face appeared before him. Her large hazel eyes and flowing flaxen tresses, a smile amidst painted pink lips, and laughter to summon the serenity of spring—it assailed him like a storm, baptizing him of any personal afflictions that would hinder his assignment. Taking a breath, he deliberately exhaled forcing his composure to a calm. _I can do this,_ he thought as another deep breath filled his lungs. _I will do what is needed of me and I shall avenge you. I swear to you._ With his emotions under control, he pulled his hands from their confines, cracked his knuckles one last time to finalize his mutation and then strode to the double doors of Fuwa Oiran Manor.

* * *

"You summoned me, Fuwa-san?" Kyoko asked upon entering the man-made onsen. Briefly lifting her eyes to him, her face flushed with heat. Hastily dropping her chin to her chest, she swallowed an uncomfortable lump and forced her heart to slow its dangerous pacing.

"That will be all, Liang," Sho replied to the young girl standing by the entrance. She was an older woman who was deathly loyal only to the young heir. Bowing gracefully, she slid the doors closed and took her leave from the family's private hot spring.

The area was in a private location on the same land as the oiran, but in the private housing of the Fuwa family. The onsen was custom build by Fuwa Sho for whenever a mood for the relaxation of the hot waters called out to him. There was a stretched pebbled path leading up to the steaming bath, which was surrounded by natural rock and beautiful plants with white flowers. The bath itself was large enough to house the pleasures of twenty men, but was reserved strictly for Fuwa-san. Every detail was carefully chosen with sophistication in mind, as well as the interests of a certain housemaid that had attracted the young heir's affections.

Attired only in a short white towel, his body glistening with moisture, the tall Fuwa walked up to meet the young lady. "Kyoko, look at me," he asked with a low voice. When she didn't move, he slipped his fingertips beneath her chin and forced her to oblige. Velvet lids painted lightly with a golden shimmer fell over her ochre eyes. "Why do you deny me?" He inquired, hurt.

"You know I cannot be here, Fuwa-san!" Kyoko answered with more vehemence than intended. Turning her face from his gesture, she stepped around him and took a profound breath to still her erratic nerves. "It is inappropriate. If anyone saw me here, if your father—"

"I don't care what my father thinks!" Sho yelled. Moving towards her, he reached out and grasped her elbow, pulling her to him. "Kyoko…" Seeing the anguish on her splendid complexion broke his heart. Licking his lips, Sho knew that she was a proper woman. A woman who would never willingly disobey his family, more for his sake than her own. He loved her even more for it. With a newfound resolve, he promised himself that he would not falter in this, he could not for his love was too much to sacrifice for the whims of an old man.

"Please, let me go," Kyoko pleaded.

Dropping his hands to his side, Sho walked around the housemaid to the bath. Climbing the four wooden steps, he sat along the stone edge and eyed her carefully. "I have summoned you here to help me with my bath, Miss Kyoko."

Gasping, she spun to face him. Her small mouth formed an O as her thin brows furrowed with an expression begging his mercy. Clutching the silken fabrics of her kimono that covered her heart, she shook her head lightly.

"You work for the Fuwa family and you will do as you're told. You have a task to complete, I suggest you complete it." Swinging his legs into the torrid water, he pulled the towel from his waist and slipped further into the bath. "I will keep my gaze averted. Please, change and join me. I have a meeting with my father later this evening and I'm expected to look my best."

Knowing that she would not be able to deny him, Kyoko lowered her hands and took the deepest breath she could muster. Her heart thundered beneath the soft skin and bone-cage that housed it. With trembling fingers she gingerly unfastened her obi. Walking to the left, she hung it with great care and then proceeded to remove her kimono, which she also hung on the area provided. Taking a neatly folded white sheet to protect it from the humidity, she draped it over the material. Her breathing grew heavier as she fetched a white towel and wrapped it securely around her body. Seeing that it only reached her thighs, her entire complexion blossomed with a veil of cerise, flowing down her neck and shoulders. Looking up towards the man she had grown to love, a man who was so far beyond her reach that she had resigned herself to accepting life without him… her heart skipped. His strong back kissed by the humid air, looked tense and just as nervous as she was feeling.

Sho could hear her delicate footsteps approaching from behind. His hands buried just beneath the surface of the water formed small balls with anticipation. Inside of himself he knew that what he was asking of her was vastly incongruous, but his desire for her was overwhelming his rationale. For once, he just wanted to touch her, to feel her hands upon him. Coming from one of the wealthiest families in the nation, Sho was accustomed to having women flaunt themselves before him, but they failed in comparison to Kyoko. She was the most stunning, the kindest, the only one whom he had ever wanted to share a life with.

The water rippled around his body as her legs dipped into it. Swallowing aside his regrets and his doubt, he spoke, voice hoarse from shyness. "Can I turn around, Kyoko?"

"A-as you wish, Fuwa-san," Kyoko stammered, her chest rising and falling quickly.

The piping liquid hugged her legs just below her knees. She sat upon the stone edge, the towel up to her thighs as her slender fingers held the knot on her chest tightly. Knuckles changed colors with the security of her grasp. Her face was turned to the side, lashes united as lids kept cover over her large eyes. Her breathtaking ebon hair was still in a lovely yet simple bun. Sho could see a light screen of dew upon her bare shoulders and thin neck.

Approaching her, he licked his lips once again. Stretching out his hand, he tenderly pulled the thin, black lacquered stick that held it together and tossed it aside. Flowing like ribbons her hair fell around her, elongated bangs framing her face sensuously. Sinking his hands into her hair, he stroked the strands affectionately. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, mesmerized.

Teeth grazed her natural lips as her desire for him to continue began to swell. _This is wrong,_ she thought. _This is taboo. If he finds us like this, God only know what will happen to Sho, but how can something that feels so right… be so wrong…?_

Sliding his palm against her cheek, Sho forced their eyes to meet. Glazed with desire, she stared back with unfaltering determination. She didn't blink. She only gazed longingly into the vast depth of brown that admired her as if she was the single most precious thing alive. "What are you thinking?" he asked softly.

"That I wish I could kiss you," she replied honestly, surprising them both. "I mean… I should—"

Sho pressed his lips to her, silencing her prattles momentarily. Her hesitation was apparent yet fleeting. Parting her mouth to his she accepted him and reciprocated with mirrored yearning. His tongue danced against hers, his strong fingers drowning in her hair while his other caressed the curves of her shoulder, pulling her to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him, terrified that this was nothing more than a torturous dream.

As the two basked in each other's company, they did not hear the steps that stomped towards the doors of the onsen. While young love blossomed beneath the skies of a desolate season, so did the tempers of a ruthless tyrant. The double doors slid violently open, startling the couple.

Fuwa-sama stepped into the room, two handmaidens and two guards in tow. "Sho, what the hell are you doing?!" He shouted.

Grabbing her arm, Sho hid Kyoko behind him protectively. "What are you doing here, father?" He asked, defiantly.

"I'm here to collect my _virgin_ property!" He shouted back. Raising his right hand, he signaled for the guards to proceed. "You have disobeyed me for the last time, boy."

"No!" Sho yelled. "You can't have her! She's not your _fucking_ property!" Placing his hands against her towel-clad legs, Sho led her back a few steps. "Just leave her alone, father! I'm begging you! You can any of the others!"

"I will take _her_ , even if I have to break your legs to do it." Fuwa-sama replied tersely, stepping further into the room. "I paid a pretty penny for her beauty and I will collect on it. Besides, how dare you frolic with the help?! You should know better than to disgrace us like that!"

"It's not like that, we weren't _frolicking_! I fucking love her!"

Kyoko's eyes fell on the tense muscles of his back. Recognizing that this was not the moment for it, she simply could not stop herself. Leaning forward, she pressed her head against his skin and slipped her arms around his body. Holding him tight, she pressed her lips to him and whispered, "I love you, Sho."

Glancing over his shoulder, Sho shook his head. "Don't you dare do that, I won't allow that to be your goodbye!"

"I'm sorry, Sho."

"Hmph," the elder scoffed. "She's nothing more than a whore who is incapable of knowing love, just like you, an immature brat who feels love for the first pair of breasts he sees."

The guards stormed up to the duo, yanking a rebellious Fuwa Sho from his beloved. Amidst the splashing and thrashing, the smoke continued to swirl up into nothing. As an armored fist met the jaw of an over-privileged heir, while the beautiful Kyoko was dragged away, and the water changed from crystal clear to faded crimson—the world kept spinning and time moved forward. Life went on while hearts broke into a million pieces.

* * *

"They have been placed accordingly," Sawara spoke discreetly into the cell phone from the tight space of the linen room. "When you are finished, just give me the signal and I will trigger them. You will only have one chance, so please take great care."

"I will not fail," the throaty voice replied.

"Understood." Pulling the device from his ear, he ended the call, flipped it shut, and then stuffed it in between two stacks of towels.

Carefully exiting the room, he looked about to ensure that he had not been found. Straightening his black yukata, he strode to the second floor of the manor. Reaching the paper door at the end, he knelt and knocked upon the frame. Hearing the vocal admission for his entrance, he stood stepped into the room, and then closed the doors behind him. Turning about, he approached his boss and knelt again, into a full dogeza. "I apologize for my delay, sir."

Waving his hand uninterestedly, Fuwa-sama replied, "It is okay Sawara, you are within the time limitations."

Sitting back into a formal pose, Sawara nodded acknowledgement. "What time is our guest supposed to arrive?"

"He will be here any moment now," the older man answered as he found his feet. He paced the space as he pondered just how much this transaction was going to profit him.

Meanwhile, Sawara admired the surroundings of the private quarters. The room was exquisitely large with a simple table on one end of the room and a large futon with thick blankets on the other side. The smell of perfume, specifically the perfume of one of their most popular ladies, still hung in the air. Keenly aware of the Lord's lecherous activities, he sighed with disgust and felt pity for Lady Fuwa.

"Did you hear about the commotion that occurred earlier?" Fuwa asked, his voice taking on an air of dangerous inquisition.

Lowering his chin, Sawara shook his head. "I did not."

"Really, you did not catch ear of what my son was up to today, with our most prized and well-disciplined product no less?"

Sawara gulped nervously. _He must be referring to Kyoko…_ he thought. _This cannot be good. If she is deemed unsellable, then our entire plan will fall to pieces._

"Are you listening to me?!" Fuwa shouted.

Sawara suddenly found the superior to be in his face. One swift move and his neck could be snapped like a meaningless branch in the streets. "I am sorry, Fuwa-sama, but I have not heard anything! I have been busy today conducting the preparations necessary to fulfill the request of our most-awaited guest."

"I see," Fuwa answered, unconvinced. Sitting back, he stroked the neat, elongated goatee that hung from his thin chin. "I found him with her in the onsen this morning. They were in quite the predicament. I will have him severely punished for his insolence."

"And the girl? Is she still…usable?"

"I had her examined _very carefully_. According to our doctors, she remains pure," the Lord answered with great agitation. "You were supposed to keep watch over her, how could you allow this to happen?!"

Flinching as he rose his voice, Sawara remained silent. He knew that if he spoke up now, no good would come of it. He could feel the rage emanating from the short, older man before him and it sent terrifyingly icy chills down his spine.

Quiet knocks at the door wrought both men's' attention.

"What?" Fuwa snapped.

The doors slid to reveal the lady Liang. "He has arrived, sir." Then she closed the doors and returned down the stairs.

"If this deal goes through and we are able to sell her for what was discussed, I shall forgive you and allow you to live," Fuwa-sama mumbled, glaring at the pest before him.

* * *

 **I'm sorry the story is slow at first, but I want to give attention to the important details and not rush anything. Thank you for reading my story.**


	3. Chapter 3: Broken

**Chapter 03: Broken**

Stepping into the exquisitely large lobby of the oiran, the Stranger lifted his head and breathed in his surroundings. The wooden panels and bamboo floor were smooth with a polished sheen that enveloped him with an air of traditional sophistication. As his eyes took in the paper doors and the limited decorations, the bedtime stories that his father used to share with him began to filter into his consciousness. Tales of long hallways so pristine and lovely that the old man felt he was residing in an ancient temple from the Edo period. Each room would be barren barring the tatami floors and futon or low-floored-desk for which the room was designated for. Flipping through the memories like a contact list, the Stranger searched his mind for any information that could be useful to him in the mission at hand. Images started to present themselves before him, but before he could analyze the findings, a lovely young woman approached him, startling his momentary contemplations.

"Good evening, sir," she said melodically as she stopped about a foot before him. With her hands elegantly held together in front of her, forming a V with her arms, she bowed deeply and held her pose.

"Good evening," the Stranger replied, his voice unwavering and dark.

Upon hearing his uttered greeting, she straightened her back and glanced briefly to his eyes before dropping her head. "How may I assist you tonight?" Her voice was perfect, every sound pronounced with such clarity he felt he was speaking to a machine. "Are you, per chance interested in something a bit more _unique_ to fit this weather?"

Clearing his throat like a nervous lamb, the Stranger shook his head but hastily realized that it would be disregarded as her gaze was not fixed upon him. "No, that won't be necessary." He tried to make his voice sound pleasant, but was not sure if in the end the effort was lost on the young woman. "I am actually here to meet with Fuwa-sama."

The shock of his statement forced her to look boldly into his eyes once more. Noticing the vibrancy of the color that stared back at her, she gasped with shock. Composing herself with a deep breath, she stood straighter and acknowledged him, swallowing all signs of emotion. "Fuwa-sama, you say?"

The Stranger nodded. "Indeed. I have arrived on business. Our appointment is one of great import."

Bowing lightly, she spoke. "I shall inform him of your presence immediately. If you do not mind waiting, kind sir, I shall only be but a few moments."

"I do not mind at all, thank you so much miss." He answered. When she departed, returning the way she had arrived, the Stranger took advantage of spare time. Every part of the plan scrolled across his awareness sharply. Every detail popped out carefully until finally the apex of it all blazed with vivacity. Turning towards the door, he dropped his façade for the briefest second to mentally prepare, for one last second of gumption to ensure his victory. Feeling his pulse pounding profoundly against his flesh, he closed his eyes and breathed softly.

 _Five years I have waited._ He thought elatedly. _For five fucking years I have waited for this one moment. I promise you, Father, I will not fail you. For her sake, I_ _will_ _succeed._

"Good evening," a gruff, masculine voice uttered from behind him. Turning on his heel smoothly he was greeted by an older gentleman, one who must have been in his early forties at most. Salt and pepper framed his face while a slightly oversized mustache hung above his mouth. His eyes were a deep brown and full of strength that the Stranger could only admire. The man looked over his shoulder to the familiar young lady from before. "Leave us," he demanded, all sense of courtesy vanished. Yet, when he returned to the guest of the oiran, that courtesy returned like a flipped switch. "Fuwa-sama has been eagerly expectant of your visit."

The Stranger nodded.

His gleaming jade stare bore into the brown marbles that met him with equal dare. Together their brows knitted delicately as their gazes narrowed. A thoughtful understanding was exchanged between the two individuals in a mere few seconds. A simple nod sealed the unspoken accord.

"Please, sir. If you would follow me," Sawara said breaking first with a small bow of his head, "I shall take you to see the lord of this manor."

The Stranger was led down a very long hallway to the back of the building, where stairs hidden behind a paper door took them to the second floor. From there, the Stranger was led down a couple of more corridors before being halted with a raised palm. In front of them was a wall of paper doors. Sawara walked to the center and slid the two doors in the middle apart. He stepped aside to allow the Stranger passage into the breathtakingly modest space.

* * *

Liang ran her tender gaze along Kyoko's finished form, searching for any signs of imperfection. When she was wholly satisfied, the lady allowed her eyes to meet the young girl's. Noticing Kyoko's perfect posture and delicate downcast complexion, she smiled faintly. "Look at me, dear," Liang said.

Lightly, with the barest lift of her chin, ochre eyes fell upon the older housemaid's. Maintaining her expression of naïve innocence and propriety, Kyoko appeared to be a walking dream of beauty and sophistication. Yet… deep within the confines of flesh and bone, she was a storm brewing. After being discovered by Fuwa-sama, her body was invaded with rude examinations by the oiran physician. Recalling the rough handling of her most intimate parts, Kyoko shivered. Tears burned her orbs furiously, yet she refused to falter in the midst of such humiliation. A scolding on the importance of duty and loyalty followed suit, which only added to the shame and mortification that had begun to plague her. Nonetheless, her fear for Fuwa Sho far overwhelmed any other emotion or thought she felt. All who knew of Fuwa-sama intimately were aware of the fire that fueled his fury. Sho and the lord have been disconnected for as long as the teen could remember. This would not bode well for the heir. The last thing she saw was the blood tainting the hot waters of the bath… Kyoko shivered again.

"Kyoko." Liang muttered with mild irritation.

Startled, she snapped her head up, breaking all forms of etiquette. Eyes widening at her mistake, she quickly dropped her chin and bowed in apology.

"After what transpired earlier today, I can understand the ghosts behind your distraction. But you must NOT forget who you are. What you are here to accomplish. The expectations of excellence."

Kyoko's lips tightened. Was it fear? Or perhaps a silent anger of her own? Even she did not know.

"If it will help appease your distress, Fuwa-san will recover quickly. I promise, dear, that he was not as terribly beaten as you might believe."

A small smoke of relief swirled into her chest, calming her immediate concern. A rapid image of their intimacy flooded her eyes and her heart tightened. _This is for the best,_ Kyoko thought. _I cannot risk hurting him, or his prospects again. Please, forgive me…Sho._

"Thank you, Liang-san." Kyoko replied kindly, bowing respectfully with grace.

* * *

"I must find her!" Sho roared, flinging the warm covers off his body. Twisting to his side in an effort to sweep his feet to the bamboo floors, he cringed at the pain that pierced his upper, left torso. Recalling the abuse that broke his ribs, he fumed. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and breathed through the agony.

"Fuwa-san, please!" The young cleaning boy pleaded with the heir as he tried to gently push him back down to the bed. "You are severely injured and in no shape to—"

"I have to know that she's okay!" Sho yelled, placing his palm against the smaller, thinner boy's chest, he shoved forcefully, sending him backwards where he landed on his rump. "My father has an anger not to be trifled with! If he can do this to me, I can only imagine what he'd do with a _piece of property_ that he no longer finds suitable." Growling, he sat up fully and curled his toes against the cool, hard floor. A picture wheel of Kyoko's face flooded his consciousness. The lovely blush to her pale cheeks. The tender way her fingers had touched his skin. The shock when his father's men stormed the bath. The terror… as they were torn apart. "I must know…" he whispered as emotion began to overwhelm him.

Sighing the young boy nodded in understanding. "I can tell you what I know about Kyoko-san, but I am not permitted to tell you more." When Sho's eyes met his, the boy swallowed a lump of fear. "Technically, sir, I shouldn't be telling you this much."

Falling to his knees as he slid off the bed's edge, Sho grasped the boy's wrists and pleaded desperately. "I swear, I will not say a word! But I have to know what has happened to her!"

Noticing the soft glean of moisture glazing Sho's eyes, the boy could not resist. In the three years he has worked here, nothing has ever stirred the heir the way that his affections for Kyoko did. Who was he to restrain the fate of true love?

"Please… I'm begging you…" Sho's voice grew hoarse.

"They…" the boy began, timidly. "They had the physician examine her for… _imperfections_. He was quite thorough from what I overheard in the kitchens."

Shutting his eyes, Sho tried his damndest to bite back the rage that began to consume him. _That old bastard, he's worse than most of the customers who visit. Kyoko has always held his deepest attention, no doubt he relished the opportunity._ Taking a slow, deep breath, Sho knitted his brows. _I swear, I will kill him._

"Afterwards, they, um…" Recognizing the distress that would come in the aftermath, the boy fell silent, unable to say the words that needed to be voiced.

Raising his eyes, Sho pleaded again. "Please, I need to know. Regardless… regardless of how much I may not want to hear it."

"Yes, sir." The boy mumbled. "They are prepping her for her mizuage." Dropping his head, the boy clenched his jaw at the thought of it.

 _No…_ Sho thought. _They can't do this to her…_

"The patron is a foreign man of stature who's agreed to pay an inconceivable price. Fuwa-sama has been abuzz with anticipation for this transaction. The rumor is that afterwards, the gaijin will take Kyoko-san with him." A wash of shame overwhelmed the boy. Wrestling his wrists free, he slid back and bowed deeply in a full dogeza before the Fuwa heir. "I am so very sorry, sir. If there was anything that I could do to stop this from happening, I would do it earnestly."

When he didn't receive a response, he braved a look up. The sight stole the air from his lungs. In the flickering candlelight, Fuwa Sho's bruised and battered face with a blackened eye, and numerous cuts and scrapes from forehead to chin, made him look utterly volatile. Thin lips were taut with disbelief and despair. Thick brows furrowed in contemplation of a notion that would more than likely bring the oiran to its knees.

Gulping once more, the boy sat back slowly. "Fuwa…-san…?"

"I won't allow it," Sho said very softly.

"Pardon me, sir?"

"I said…" Meeting the boy's gaze, Sho pushed into a stance, wincing when the pain assaulted him. "I won't _fucking_ allow it!" Sho yelled. Turning deftly on his bare feet, he ran to the paper doors in pursuit of the woman he loved so dearly.

* * *

 **I apologise that it's taken me so long to update this story. I was struggling with a lack of inspiration. But I am hoping to diligently continue the story onwards with regular updates. Please, support me if you can. Thank you very much. XOXO.  
**

 **Also, please note that I have a new computer and software, so the spelling of English words from this point forward will be in British English spelling (ex. recognize=recognise, program=programme, honor=honour, etc.).**


	4. Chapter 4: Boom!

**Chapter 04: Boom!**

"Is she ready?" A basso voice inquired as a tall, masculine figure stepped into the small room. Carefully sliding the paper doors closed, Fuwa-sama moved closer to his most prised possession. He eyed her carefully, inspecting every detail for any remaining imperfections.

Kyoko looked breath-taking. The kimono that wrapped her snuggly was stunningly embroidered with dusty pink cherry blossoms against a midnight blue silk background. Loose petals of white and darker shades of pink cascaded across the fabric in an elegant design highlighting the setting. Vivid green leaves and the soft, golden hues of the moon completed the pattern. A cerulean obi was tied around her waist, along with a red obijime. The obidome below that was almost identical in colour and print to the kimono itself, adding subtle dimension to her attire. A pink haneri peaked out around her nape, highlighting the paleness of her bare skin and flush of her cheeks. Long, ebon tresses were pulled back in a fancy bun, exhibiting the shape and volume of a blooming blossom. A small strip of black hair rested along her right shoulder, styled into a perfect, sensuous curl.

Fuwa-sama nodded approvingly. When he laid his eyes upon her head, he realised that her outfit was missing an important detail. Glancing over his shoulder to the maid, Liang, he extended his left hand, palm out. Bowing slightly, she reached into her own kimono and pulled a small velvet box, without raising her gaze to her superior.

"There is one last thing required," he stated matter-of-factly. Flipping the box open, he retrieved a gold and pink kanzashi, in the shape of a sakura in full bloom. Two strings of pearls dangled down from the blossom. It was extraordinarily designed and of extreme value. Returning the now empty box to Liang, Fuwa-sama closed the space between him and Kyoko, reached up and tenderly placed the kanzashi into the base of her bun. Stepping back, he nodded once more.

"Now, you are ready."

When she didn't move, he placed his fingertips beneath her chin and lifted her face, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"You have nothing to fear, Kyoko-kun," he began, softening his voice. "You are a lovely, young woman. I have high expectations for you and the duties that I have bestowed upon you. Do you understand?"

Feeling her heart racing even faster, Kyoko acknowledged his words and forced a tiny smile to her lips.

"It is quite rare to have an outsider, particularly one of such immense wealth and station, to approach an inexperienced and pristine flower, such as yourself. You are the jewel of this oiran."

"I understand, Fuwa-sama," Kyoko replied quietly.

"Do you, in fact, understand? I must know if you fully comprehend the scope of what your new position will entail? Once the bargain has been completed, you must abide by everything asked of you from your Danna?" Fuwa-sama said adding a tone of authority to his inquiry.

This time Kyoko looked upon her boss without an ounce of fear or hesitation. "Yes, I understand, and I am willing to do what I must to make you proud."

Fuwa-sama smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."

He turned to Liang and nodded once more. Dropping his hand from Kyoko, he turned about and strode out of the room, leaving the women to their final preparations.

* * *

The Stranger stood when Sawara-san re-entered the room followed by a taller man. Within the first few seconds of laying his eyes on him, the Stranger knew that this had to have been Fuwa-sama. The man exuded an aura of strict authority and power unlike anything he had seen before.

Dressed immaculately in a dark blue yukata, with matching haori and striped hakama, Fuwa-sama reminded the Stranger of a malevolent lord from the Feudal era. Even his gait and facial expressions held a taut air of sophisticated discipline to them. Inwardly, the Stranger felt sick with rage. He continued to watch the man as he approached a white cushion across from where the foreigner was sitting.

"Thank you for waiting so patiently," Fuwa-sama addressed his guest politely, but the tone of an invisible warning touched each pronounced word. "I am the master of this oiran."

The Stranger bowed deeply. "It is an honour to finally meet you, sir."

Bowing in formal acknowledgment, Fuwa-sama gestured to the cushions. Both men took a seat, backs straight, brows lightly furrowed for negations to come. "I am Fuwa. What is your name, son?"

Inly sneering, the Stranger took a subtle breath to calm his storming emotions. "Tsuruga," he replied kindly. "Tsuruga Ren."

"A Japanese name. Does this mean that you have Japanese blood running through your veins?"

Tsuruga nodded. "My mother was Japanese, but she died when I was very little, so I'm quite unfamiliar with the Japanese ways."

"That's very interesting. It always saddens me to meet young people who have no culture. So much potential just wasted into thin air." Fuwa-sama mused.

Gritting his teeth, Tsuruga nodded once. "A sentiment shared by many of the _older_ generation."

"Tell me, Tsuruga-san," Fuwa-sama moved on, ignoring the remark. "What, pray tell, interested you in our Kyoko-kun?" Fuwa-sama asked.

Tsuruga knew that this was a loaded question. He also knew that the answer crawling down his tongue was not something his father would approve of. Swallowing it away, he offered a charming grin and recited what was prepared.

"To be perfectly frank, Fuwa-sama, my father has unique tastes, which can no longer be satisfied by what is available in his region. He also has a peculiar interest in the unique and exotic. I believe those are the reasons why he has sent me here."

"And you have no personal issues with your father's rather delicate indulgences?" Fuwa-sama questioned boldly, momentarily ignoring the rules of propriety.

"No, I do not." Tsuruga answered flatly. "As long as he keeps me supplied with money, I don't really care what his personal interests entail."

Fuwa-sama grinned. "Interesting. Given your lineage, it does not surprise me that your father would return to a more dignified people for his intimate gratifications."

Tsuruga Ren opened his mouth for a spiteful retort, but it was lost with the sounds of the paper door opening. Turning his head to glare at the interruption, he was instead stunned to utter silence.

Kyoko walked into the room led by Liang. She strode into the space between the two men, turned to the guest and bowed deeply. As she stood back up, her eyes briefly met the Stranger's, catching her breath. Never before had she seen eyes of such a colour. Yet, without missing a step, she then turned to Fuwa-sama and bowed even deeper to him, before settling down on the dark purple cushion behind her.

"Tsuruga-san, I would like to introduce you to Kyoko-kun," Fuwa-sama introduced, beaming.

"Extraordinary," Tsuruga whispered, admiring the young woman, feeling mesmerised. After a few moments, the foreigner realised he was be sensationally rude. Clearing his throat, he returned his attention to the lord of the oiran. "How much?"

Taken aback, Fuwa-sama gaped at Tsuruga. "Straight to the point now that you have seen the prise, eh?"

Pressing his lips together, Tsuruga remained quiet.

"Don't tell me that a gift for the father will in turn be a jewel for the son?" When the Stranger remained silent again, Fuwa-sama laughed. "Well, Tsuruga-san, I assume that your father disclosed a price to you already. If you would relate that, I believe we can work out some sort of accord."

Narrowing his eyes, it was Tsuruga Ren's turn to exude authority and power. "With all due respect, Fuwa-sama, I asked _you_ how much."

All remnants of mirth and laid-back chit-chat had suddenly evaporated from the room entirely. A strong air of tension began to settle down. These two individuals looked deeply and intently upon each other, attempting to read the hidden agendas and unspoken threats. After ten minutes or so, one of them broke the anxious atmosphere.

"I see now that I may have underestimated you, Tsuruga-san." Fuwa-sama stated.

"A mistake many of the older generation tend to make often," Tsuruga quipped "If you would be so kind, Fuwa-sama, _**how much?**_ "

"Ten million yen," Fuwa-sama answered sneering.

Sawara-san who had been sitting quietly in the corner during this entire exchange, astonished by this new price, spoke up instinctively. "But Sir, that's far more than we disc—"

With a raise of his boss's hand, Sawara was silenced. He knew that he would be greatly punished for the insolence later. But this price was far more than anything the two men had discussed earlier. It made him severely uncomfortable not knowing the thoughts flowing through the superior's mind in that moment. Nervously, he looked to Tsuruga, but saw that he was not perturbed in the least.

"Done." Tsuruga Ren accepted without reluctance.

Dazed, Fuwa-sama could not help but stare at the man sitting across from him.

"Would you mind if I inspected her for my father?" Tsuruga asked, grin broadening. "Within your presence of course."

"By all means."

Standing, Tsuruga walked over to Kyoko, offered her his hand. Looking at his open palm, Kyoko wanted to glance back to ask what she should do. But she knew that from this moment onwards, she would be entirely on her own. Independent decisions were something she would have start doing henceforth.

Swallowing back her nervousness, she slid her hand into his much larger one and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Releasing her palm, she stood perfectly still as Tsuruga walked behind her, looking her up and down as if appraising a precious pet or jewellery. Suddenly she felt his hand on her shoulder, startling her.

"It's okay," he whispered very softly from behind, surprisingly close. "I won't hurt you," he added, the warmth of his breath cascading across her neck. "I apologise in advance," he added sadly.

As Kyoko began moving to face her purchaser, the paper doors slid open brusquely, causing everyone within the room to jump out of their skins.

"Kyoko!" Fuwa Sho shouted as he entered the room, a trail of male servants following behind. "Kyoko, please don't do it!"

Fuwa-sama found his feet, shocked, and outraged by his son's disobedient behaviour. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Fuwa yelled.

Violently brushing off the hands that tried to keep him from entering the room, Sho marched up to his father and scowled viciously. "I won't let you sell her like some fucking slave!" He shouted to his father. "You can't do this to her, I refuse!"

 _ **SLAP!**_

Slowly, Sho placed his right hand to his stinging cheek, tears burning behind brown eyes infused with fury. "Thank you," he muttered in reply.

Lowering his voice, Fuwa-sama addressed his son through clenched teeth and a seething ire. "I will have you **beaten** for you insolence. You will rue the day you _loved_ her."

Meanwhile, Tsuruga watched the interchange very carefully. Stepping around Kyoko, his eyes widened at the influx of negative emotions surrounding them. When the Sho's eyes landed on Kyoko, Tsuruga noticed the writhing passion and affection he held for the girl blatantly painted all over his expression. Fuwa-sama matched his son's stare and then brutally grasped the boy by his arm, forcing him to the paper doors.

 _Interesting,_ Tsuruga thought. Throwing his gaze to the young woman, he noticed the concern and affection in her moisture-glazed eyes. _This is very interesting. Well, well, well… This changes things quite a bit…_ he thought, victoriously and walked towards Kyoko.

"Let go of me!" Sho screamed, pulling out of his father's grip. Placing his hands on the elder's chest, he shoved the man backwards and moved to his beloved. "You can't have her. I'm taking her with me. If you have a problem with it, then you will have to kill me to stop me!"

Kyoko gasped as a strong, muscled arm came around and secured itself across her chest, pulling her back. "What are you doing?!" She asked. Grabbing at the arm, she tried to tug him off, but he was far stronger than she.

Sho halted, eyes widening in bewilderment and apprehension. "No! Please, let her go!"

Retrieving a hidden knife, Tsuruga placed the seven-inch long blade against Kyoko's pale neck, just below her chin, on the left.

"What the hell is this?" Fuwa-sama yelled, turning to Kyoko and Tsuruga.

" _ **This**_ is for my mother," Tsuruga said through gritted teeth. " _ **This**_ is for Juliena… Hizuri."

Fuwa-sama's eyes grew wide as his lips parted. "Hizuri…" he spat. "I should have known." After taking a second to ponder the situation, the old man began laughing madly. Reaching into his yukata, he pulled out a long barrelled .22 revolver and pointed it at Tsuruga. "What makes you think that a _whore_ like her would mean anything to me."

Tsuruga curled his lips with contemptuous satisfaction. "Unlike you, I am not blind." Without breaking his stare from the Fuwa family, the Stranger nodded to Sawara. "Did you honestly think I would come here unprepared?"

"Wait…" Sho intervened, raising his hands to both. "Please, don't hurt her." He took a step closer to the foreigner. "Whatever your problems with my father are, they don't concern Kyoko!"

As his arm tightened further around her, Kyoko let out a small scream. Digging her nails into his arm, she continued to fight her attacker, but to no avail.

"Of course, it does!" Tsuruga shouted. "Didn't you see the lecherous way your father looks at her? Are you really that fucking blind?!"

Slowly, Sho looked to his father. "Bullshit! Right? That has to be bullshit! Tell me he's lying!"

Before any replies could be made, Tsuruga dragged Kyoko with him to the window in the back of the room. "Sawara-now."

Standing, Sawara pulled out a black cell phone from a hidden pocket and pushed a button on the keypad. A second later the entire building was rocked with explosions. Debris and cracks in the ceiling began falling all around them. Quickly, he slid across the tatami to Tsuruga and Kyoko.

The ensuing chaos—men and women shouting and running about, pieces of the building falling apart as micro-explosions rocked other areas of the building and compound-distracted both Fuwa men enough. Shoving Kyoko to Sawara, Tsuruga pulled a syringe from his pocket and injected the young woman in the neck before she had time to react. Soon, she went limp in Sawara's arm. Using his knife, he broke the glass window and shattered away the sharp edges. They were on the second floor. The fall wouldn't be fun, but it also wouldn't do too much damage, especially to those who've been trained.

"Stop them!" Fuwa-sama ordered to some of the men that began to spill into the room, while rushing towards the Hizuri assassin, raising his gun. But smoke was quickly occupying the space, creating limited visibility and causing difficulty breathing.

"Take her and jump," he ordered to Sawara. Deftly, he spun on his heel and raced towards his mother's killer. A shot rang out, but missed Tsuruga by a hair, giving him the opportunity he needed. Jabbing at the elder's inner-elbow, he then sliced at the wrist, eliciting an arc of crimson. The gun fell to the ground between them. Kicking it aside, he then punched Fuwa in the face, sending him backwards.

Sho ran up to him and attempted a tackle, but was roughly shoved aside, his inexperience in combat terribly obvious. Noticing the fallen weapon, Tsuruga, creatively slid his foot beneath the barrel, thankful for only wearing his socks. Out of respect for the oiran rules, he had removed them before entering this room. He flung the gun into the air and grabbed it skilfully. Taking aim at Sho, he pulled the trigger.

"No, my son!" Fuwa-sama screamed as he watched a red flower bloom across his son's chest, the shirt soaking up blood like a sponge.

Reacting to the basso voice, Tsuruga took place between father and son and raised the gun to Fuwa's head. "She never cared about you, you know." Tsuruga taunted. "Not once. She hated you every single day of her life for what you did to her family."

Fuwa-sama began to laugh maniacally, tears streaking his face. "I will never forget Juliena! She was my first _whore_. I will never forget the sounds she made as I took her. Nor the way her eyes glistened as I felt her life leaving her body."

Clenching his jaw so tightly, Tsuruga could feel the agony throbbing across his teeth and neck. " **Fuck. You**." Tsuruga Ren pulled the trigger and watched Fuwa-sama's head explode before him in a beautiful eruption of grey brain matter, scarlet spray, and fleshy chunks. Turning about, he knelt beside Sho, took his knife, and stabbed him in the stomach, all seven inches sunk deeply into his body like butter.

Sho screamed in agony, "Fuck! You… sonofa… bitch!"

Standing, Tsuruga moved to the window and climbed into the empty pane. Hearing the boy's voice behind him, he stopped momentarily and looked over his shoulder.

"I'll fucking kill you! If you… touch her, I'll kill… you…" Brown eyes slid back as pale lids came down, embracing him into darkness.

 _Fuwa Sho,_ Tsuruga Ren thought, remembering the name from a journal his mother kept a long time ago. Narrowing his eyes with pure hatred, Tsuruga contemplated slitting his throat. But as the building rocked with more unsteady vibrations, he looked down and nodded to Sawara. A couple of seconds later, just as Tsuruga jumped, the room shook with one last explosion.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Please note that this story will only get more intense. There will be some psychological aspects, as well as more violence, physical and sexual. Read at your own discretion. Thank you.  
**


	5. Chapter 5: Hizuri

**Chapter 05 - Hizuri**

Sliding the two heavy wooden doors together quietly, Tsuruga Ren turned away from the bedroom of his apartment and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Digging out a small cell phone from his pocket, he flipped it open and pushed the green button, awakening the screen. Tapping in a four-digit password, he unlocked the screen, bringing up a background picture of his parents. Smiling sadly at their lost joy, he brought up the dialling screen and in-putted a sequence of numbers. Placing the phone against his ear, he turned his back to the window and sat down on the plush carpeted floor. After two rings, a male voice answered.

"Is it done?"

Tsuruga sighed, "Yes, father. He is dead."

The silence on the other end stretched on for what felt to be an eternity before Kuu spoke again. "Are you absolutely certain?"

"I swear on Mother." The young man emphasised. "Fuwa Takeo no longer lives."

Another wave of silence greeted Tsuruga. As he awaited his father to gather his emotions and the grim satisfaction of knowing that his biggest rival was dead, the boy pondered his mother. She was a beautiful woman, coveted by many men in her life. With long, flowing golden hair and eyes as green as the leaves in Spring. Her beauty was esteemed around the globe. But her true beauty lay in her heart and her compassion, qualities that had left a wake of emptiness in both Hizuri men amid her death… murder.

"When can I expect you to return, my son?" Kuu inquired, relief and emotion heavy in his tone.

Glancing to the wooden doors, Tsuruga breathed deeply. "I have a personal matter that I must attend to before I can return. I'm sorry, father, but I don't know how long it will hold me."

"I understand," came the reply, sadness evident. "Please, take care of yourself. I cannot bear to lose you as well."

"I promise, father. I will come back to you." The man felt a longing for his family deep within his heart. Yet he knew that if he did not resolve the issues that plagued him, he would never find peace. "I won't leave you alone in this miserable world."

"I love you, Kuon. Check in when you can."

After saying their farewells, Kuon flipped the phone shut and placed it beside him. Leaning his head back against the cold glass, he closed his eyes and replayed the image of Fuwa Takeo's head bursting likened to an overripe fruit. The comfort it brought was hard as steel and as empty as his heart. The vengeance felt extraordinary in that moment, especially knowing of the comfort it would bring his aching father. Yet, it didn't change anything. His mother was still dead, and forever would be.

Exhaling with melancholy, Kuon reached into his pockets for a small folded up letter. Unfolding it, he read each word carefully, just as he had many, many times before. Every single re-read brought him frustration and anger. Takeo was a ruthless, vindictive asshole who had been obsessed with Juliena, an obsession further amplified by her rejection. But the mere thought of those consequences, only worked to embolden Kuon's feelings of hatred, feelings that he no longer had an outlet for, at least not one actively before him.

Tightening his fingers around the letter, he unintentionally scrunched it up. Shaking his head with mild frustration, he unravelled his fingers, straightened out the page and placed it beneath the phone. _Forgive me, mother,_ he thought. _I'm just not capable of being that compassionate…_

"Um…"

Her meek voice drove away his dark thoughts, attracting his attention. Kuon lifted his head and gazed upon the girl named Kyoko. Her kimono was askew, covered with soot, and had small tears in various places. Placing his palms on the ground, Kuon pushed into a stance and slowly stepped towards her. When she instinctively backed away, he stopped. Licking his lips, he shoved aside all his internal demons momentarily.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I didn't hear the doors open."

Kyoko stood, shivering, with her hands held in front of her. She was frightened and disoriented by the evening's events. Trying to stay brave, she eyed this strange, foreign man carefully in an attempt to size him up. Cautiously, she moved a couple of steps closer.

"Are you injured?" Kuon asked awkwardly.

"I… I don't think s-so," Kyoko stammered.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he stood up a bit straighter. "May I approach you, Kyoko-san?"

Kyoko inhaled nervously.

"I promise, I won't hurt you," he added. "I just want to make sure that you're all right."

Judiciously, she nodded.

With three long strides, Kuon closed the gap between them. As they stood facing one another, he realised that she was much shorter and more petite than he originally believed. If they were next to each other, Kyoko would have been the same height as his shoulder, maybe an inch or so shorter.

"Is something the matter?" she asked quietly.

Recognising that he was starting at her, he cleared his throat and offered a brief apology. Then Kuon reached out and took Kyoko's hand in his and led her down the two steps to a cushioned chair behind him. "Please, sit."

Nodding, she obliged him.

Kneeling before her, Kuon began by looking at her hands and fingers and then slowly moved the sleeves of the kimono further up her arm.

A heavy silence fell between them as he gingerly searched for injuries. The only exchange were questions and answers about any pain. When she could bear it no longer, Kyoko decided to ask what had been hanging over her.

"Why?" she whispered to him.

Startled by the abrupt interruption of quietness, Kuon met her eyes. "Pardon me?"

Surprised by continued politeness, Kyoko could not fathom who this person was, or how he could do the violent things he had done.

"Why? Why did you… why did you hurt them? And why did you bring me here?"

Unsure of how to respond to her blatant inquisition, Kuon remained silent, contemplating the situation. The more she asked of him, the more moisture began to fill the rims of her powerful stare. Internally, he felt horrible for taking her. The human part of him knew that what he intended was terribly wrong. But the killer within him refused to relent, to fall victim to these emotions.

"What are you going to do to me?" Kyoko voiced her most difficult question, bouncing between wanting to know the truth and thinking better of ignorance.

Sitting back on to the floor with his knees raised, Kuon draped his arms along the top of his legs and sighed. "What do you want to hear, Kyoko-san?"

Taken aback by his reply, Kyoko gaped at him unsurely.

"Do you want me to be honest with you? Or do you want to hear something that will bring you comfort?" Kuon said matter-of-factly.

"Will it make a difference?" She snapped back, finding courage she didn't realise she had. Maybe it wasn't courage, but just the simple recognition of her terror and knowing that sitting here feeling scared wasn't going to save her. No one was going to save her this time. "Aren't you just going to kill me? Like all of those people killed during the explosion?"

"No one was killed during those explosions. Yes, people were harmed, but no one was killed. I made sure of that after we got out. The only people to die were the Fuwas."

Her mind blanked at the revelation. A feeling of surreal disbelief overwhelmed her. The longer the silence stretched, the more her consciousness began to process this reality. Kyoko's mouth fell open in agonising astonishment.

Remembering her affections for the young Fuwa, Kuon furrowed his brows with mild guilt.

"No… Sho… Sho _can't_ be dead…" Her chest began to ache as her heart palpitated painfully. Feeling the air within her lungs evaporate and her mind go numb from this bitter truth, Kyoko grabbed at the fabrics over her heart and buried her fingers into them. "Tell me, tell me it's **not true!** "

Looking deeply into her eyes, Kuon stated, "I shot him and then I stabbed him. I killed Sho and his father, who's head now paints his precious little oiran."

"No!" Kyoko shouted, leaping from the chair, she reached for Kuon. He fell to his back with the woman on top, holding him by the collar of his shirt, orange eyes bright with grief and anger. "How could you do this?! How could you kill an innocent man?!"

Grabbing her wrists painfully, Kuon pulled her closer and shouted into her face, "Innocent?! Are you just as blind as the rest of them?! There is _nothing_ innocent about that family! About your dear boss or his bastard that you love!"

"NO! I won't hear of it!" Attempting a retreat, Kyoko tried sitting back and moving away, but the stranger had a firm grip on her and refused to relinquish it. Instead, he rolled her onto her back, pinning her arms down to either side of her. "I don't believe you!" She screamed.

"Don't believe me!" Kuon yelled into her face as he towered above her.

For the first time, Kyoko comprehended the position she was in. Closing her mouth, she swallowed back more grief and fear and met her kidnapper's eyes. They were so very green. Greener than anything she had seen in her life. _How could such beautiful eyes be so utterly devoid of sympathy? Or compassion?_ She thought. When he brought his mouth closer to hers, her breathing became ragged.

"Don't believe me, if you don't wish it," Kuon continued, lowering his voice just above a whisper. "I frankly don't give a fuck where you choose to misplace your faith. But know that you **belong** to me right now. I did purchase you after all."

"You didn't…" she began, but then thought better of it, terror seeping into her bones.

"Oh, but I did," Kuon responded to her unspoken words. "I sent Sawara back after the explosion to make sure no one died. He also dropped off the 10 million yen that you're supposedly worth. So, **yes** , I did purchase you. I always pay my fucking debts; don't you ever forget that."

"Please…" Kyoko pleaded. "Please, just let me go. I don't have any experience, I'm of no value to you…"

Kuon eyed her curiously, reading her expressions and the vast depth laced within those ochre eyes. _You have no idea how much you are worth, Ms. Kyoko,_ he thought. _Your Sho, if he survived, will definitely want his little prise back. I can never allow that to happen, not yet…_

"Please…" Kyoko repeated.

Kuon tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek and spoke softly against her. "If you ask me again, you'll regret it." When she nodded her understanding, he relinquished her wrists and pushed into a stance. When she sat up, he grabbed her by the arm, dragged her to her feet and led her back to the bedroom, shoving her inside.

"You are to stay in this room until we leave. You can try to break the windows all you'd like, but they won't break. They are triple paned, bullet proof glass. The bathroom is the room on the left. There's nothing in there you can hurt me with, although you're welcome to try that as well. Spare, clean clothes were dropped off earlier, you can find them in the closet on the right. If you need anything, just yell. You seem to be good at that." He began to close the doors.

"I will scream!" Kyoko shouted. "I'll scream until someone comes—"

"This entire apartment is one of the most sound-proof places in the entire city. Scream your fucking head off, I don't care."

"Who… are you?" She whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Kuon met her eyes and said without a single ounce of emotion. "Hizuri." The doors slid shut and locked securely.

Looking out the window, Kyoko saw the grey clouds had started showering the city in heavy rain. Kyoko fell to her knees, pressed her face against the cold glass and sobbed into the never-ending evening.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. If you can, please leave me a review and I will update promptly!  
**


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